Chapter 68
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 68
Chapter Title: No Issues at the Southern Border (1)
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The next morning.
"Welcome to the Crossroad Kingdom."
- Thud.
The sound of a stamp echoing across my desk for the first time in ages.
"Good. Next!"
The border never changes.
No matter how the world turns, one of the most rigorously guarded things is always immigration inspection.
So, no matter what I've been through these past few days, I can't forget my duty.
Yeah, this is my place.
Fiddling with the entry stamp for no reason fills me with a sense of relief I didn't expect.
Finally, it feels like I'm back to normal life.
The Immigration Control Office doesn't change. That's an unchanging law.
But what has changed...
"...Hmm."
Is the people.
I glanced back casually.
In one corner of the office, Illein—hooded deeply in her robe—watched the whole scene quietly.
I gave a slight nod, and she nodded back in kind.
Her green eyes caught the light just a bit.
And on her chest, a hastily made name tag swayed gently.
- Honorary Observer.
A title as makeshift as the tag itself.
Unlike Erzena, who's now settled in as the office's fatigue recovery specialist, Illein was still too new for any real duties.
For now, just observing like this would broaden her horizons.
It was a great chance to show her how many races there are in the world and how to deal with them.
Gotta make a good impression.
Sure enough, Illein seemed fascinated by everything new, her eyes darting around with a mix of curiosity and tension sparkling in them.
I turned back and called out to the long line ahead.
"Next!"
"Oi!"
A response came right away.
"What kinda people are there so damn many of? Tellin' us to enter or not?"
A grumbling male voice.
But something felt off.
"...Entrant? Where are you?"
"Yer ground-pounders can't see even with eyes open?"
I could hear the voice, but no one was visible.
What the...?
Flustered, I looked around.
But there was no one in front of my desk.
"Oi, down here! Look down a bit."
"Ah."
Following the voice downward, I finally noticed a man standing there, about half my height.
Stocky build, bushy beard reaching his knees.
Contrasting that, bulging muscles and work clothes like a miner's.
The moment I saw him, I knew what race he was.
"Dwarf..."
It was the dwarf race.
The dwarf, wearing a rugged-looking helmet, muttered.
"Livin' just lookin' ahead, yer gonna trip on rocks. Look down sometimes too."
His rough common tongue spilled out through his beard, blunt pronunciation hitting like hammer strikes. It was refreshingly novel.
For a small-bodied race, failing to notice them could indeed come off as rude.
"My apologies. Dwarves rarely come to the southern border, so I slipped up."
With a brief apology, I flipped the hourglass on my desk.
"State your origin, name, and purpose of visit. You have five minutes."
"Five minutes? Fine."
The dwarf immediately spread his legs shoulder-width and squared his stance.
"Name's Batan Glimrock. Second son of the great miner Chepa Glimrock."
He pointed at the ground with the hand stroking his beard.
"Me? I come from down there."
"..."
Who doesn't know that?
He's screaming "underground native" with his whole body.
And which underground? How should I know?
Forcing a smile, I said,
"I'd appreciate a more precise origin."
"Know Undermine?"
Undermine.
Not a name I'd never heard.
The dwarves' homeland, an unknown city no other race has found.
But something was off.
Undermine's not in the south—it's somewhere in the Great Mountains.
The dwarves' home lies beneath the Urakaras Mountains.
Deep in the massive range that divides the continent into four.
Plus, the southern continent is mostly flat plains with hardly any mountains.
No mountains means no rich mineral veins.
So miners like dwarves rarely came south.
Yet here was this Batan, covered in dirt, standing before me.
Most dwarves work near western volcanic zones. Why here?
Something felt alien about it.
Like the clues didn't fit.
"Hmm..."
And one answer I hadn't heard yet.
"What's your purpose of visit?"
"Yer ground-pounders blind? Why would an undergrounder come topside? Only one reason."
He rummaged in his pocket and held up something caked in dirt.
A green stone gleamed brilliantly.
- Sparkle, sparkle.
An emerald.
"Oh..."
From afar, Illein's matching green eyes lit up with curiosity.
Gems, huh.
The symbol of dwarves, crystallized racial desire, in his hand.
"Heard rumors of a vein down south. Spent half a year sweatin' in this worthless dirt."
Dwarves rarely leave their homeland.
Pride in underground life, ancestral craftsmanship, and the mountains' bountiful veins keep them there.
Leaving Undermine means abandoning it all for the surface alone.
But exceptions exist.
Eccentrics who roam for jewels and metals beyond their mountains.
They revealed dwarves to the continent.
Probably one of those.
As if confirming my thought, he continued.
"Dug it all dry. Time to head home."
Dwarves outclass human miners by dozens in tunneling and vein spotting.
One could exhaust a whole vein in a flash.
This fits now.
Eccentric dwarf, precise origin, possessions matching purpose.
I said,
"Any other gems among your items?"
"Plenty. Wouldn't come south for just one."
He turned, hefting a large bag from his back.
"Got a heap here."
Raw gems of every color glittered inside the bulging bag.
I snapped my fingers.
"Aide."
"Ready."
My direct aide approached with a small wooden box.
"Entrant, please place all your gems here."
"Huh? Why?"
"Routine inspection."
Precious metals, ores, and gems are special managed items.
Metals: high value, check for stolen goods.
Ores: strategic, report to intel.
Gems: resonate with mana, key for artifacts and magic tools—critical items.
Always verify type, quantity, export path.
"Hmm..."
Batan stroked his beard reluctantly.
But nodded.
"...Don't scratch 'em."
"We'll be careful."
With my polite reply, he dumped the bag's contents into the box with distrust.
- Clatter, rattle.
Dozens of fist-sized raw stones poured in.
My aide gasped.
"Whoa..."
Selling one would cover our salaries for months.
Carrying that alone in a bag. Brave or clueless?
Dwarves' underground common sense differs from ours.
Once the box was full, the aide took it to the Tactile Officer.
"Tactile Officer. Gem verification request."
"Oh my, so pretty."
She widened her eyes, tentacles scanning each stone as she murmured.
"Emerald, sapphire, opal, amethyst—heavens, ruby too—"
Then.
"Huh?"
She froze.
Lifted the last stone, staring intently.
A blood-red gem, lethally beautiful.
Unlike the others.
Smooth teardrop curve, like it was cut.
She muttered gravely.
"This isn't ruby. It's a blood diamond?"
Blood diamond.
I frowned.
Damn it.
Rare, but dangerously used in blood magic catalysts.
Banned import item.
"Sorry, but one of your items violates entry rules."
"What!? Bullshit!?"
Batan yelped in shock.
"Blood diamond. Class 1 banned import. Equivalent danger to unauthorized artifacts. Without proper handling, it threatens border security."
I recited the regs.
"We'll confiscate and conduct a brief interrogation. Do you consent?"
Why you have it, where from, who for.
Let's hear it calmly.
But the dwarf exploded more than expected.
"Don't screw with me! You just want it!?"
"Ugh...!"
His sudden shout made Illein flinch, pulling her hood deeper and shrinking into the corner.
Her fading wariness spiked back up.
My face hardened.
"...Calm down. No one's saying that. And lower your voice."
"Then why take our sweat-mined gem!?"
Ah.
There it was.
Dwarven racial greed.
Isolated underground for ages, minimal cultural exchange.
Boundless desire for metals and gems.
He thought I coveted the blood diamond.
The mood soured fast.
"...Reasoning's failing."
"That's why ground-pounders are trouble!"
I locked eyes with my aide.
His gaze said,
Arrest?
Hold on.
Think.
Anger's natural.
Dwarves covet gems—common knowledge.
But why bring a banned item openly to our border?
The inconsistency was here.
Smuggler?
I narrowed my eyes at him.
Southern border smugglers? Near extinct.
I eradicated them four years ago.
The bold ones who tried? Executed or jailed.
Is this dwarf one?
No. He'd have hidden it better.
Would've concealed from the start or pulled it out.
I stared at Batan.
"What is this? Said you'd inspect and return—do it!"
Pure confusion on his face.
Smugglers never solo.
Always pairs+, decoys, in groups.
Not a smuggler. Too amateur.
Other reasons: honest mistake, regulation ignorance.
Or...
Not self-smuggling—instigated.
Last suspicion strongest.
Need more intel.
I focused slowly.
Soon, my voice came out gravelly, dirt-thick.
"Krah-sil-la dre meta ee al-la-gas di-a-ka." (= How about we calm down and talk first?)
"Eh?"
He froze, eyes bulging at me.
"...Whoa?"
Illein tilted her head curiously from afar at my sudden change.
"Ma-ka dum? Hru-a-sil be-ta de un-ter-mine?" (= What's this? You from Undermine?)
The dwarf warmed instantly.
"Aigoo, didn't know humans had Undermine folk! Yer parents dwarves?"
"Pardon?"
Even I was thrown by his prejudice-free assumption.
I continued in Dwarvish.
"Not quite, but I know well the effort dwarves put into mining beauties like this. Natural everyone covets them. Honestly? Yeah, I want it a bit."
Merchant basics: stroke ego.
Service spirit: hype the customer.
For gruff dwarves, sweeter than ale.
"This fella gets it. Most humans don't know our toil."
"That's why I'm saying... You know blood diamonds are dangerous, right? Need special handling."
"Aye, I know that much..."
Mood eased, guard dropped.
Dropped guard reveals secrets easily.
Batan scratched his beard.
"...Heard someone'd trade it for mithril. Thought I'd be fine if careful. Safe in dwarf hands."
Truth out.
"True. Your race handles gems masterfully. But if it slips to another race by mistake? Especially villains' hands?"
"Oi, disaster. Can't let this pretty baby roll rough."
"Exactly. That's why our kingdom does this."
Naturally gained agreement, explained our side.
"We'll contact the national magic academy for safety measures, then return it. I promise."
Easy for them to tag ominous gems with tracking.
If instigated smuggling via naive dwarf, better catch the buyer than just block.
Add mana-nullification—left a pretty rock.
No loose ends. Find the buyer.
Root it out from southern border.
"Stay at the border a few days. It'll be quick."
"Tch... Aigoo, fine! Can't distrust someone speaks home tongue."
Dwarf relented.
"Good. Let's proceed."
I raised the stamp cheerfully.
"Dwarf Batan Glimrock. You possessed banned import items, deemed regulation ignorance mistake with full cooperation. Respected and fulfilled our process."
Scanned his papers.
No issues.
"Welcome to the Crossroad Kingdom."
- Thud!
Stamped.
[Entry Permitted] clear on paper.
Scribbled small beside:
[Track Required].
"Return in a week. It'll be ready."
Aide swiftly pocketed papers in [Foreign Affairs Dispatch] envelope.
"Happy diggin', human sir! See ya in a week!"
The dwarf waved and scurried out.
Watching him go, I muttered.
"Blood diamond... Who wanted to buy it?"
A bit worrying.
High collectible value, but equal danger—buyer no ordinary folk.
"Hmm."
Hope it's nothing.
Bad feeling though.
Like calm before storm.
Something about to hit this peaceful office.
"Just 60 quiet days. That's all I ask."
I murmured low, turning back.
"Next!"
And Illein watched solemnly.
[The world... is harsh.]
Her faint monologue, opposite my hopes, scattered in the bustling Immigration Control Office.